Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Complete by Shawna Whalen (best e book reader TXT) 📖
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- Author: Shawna Whalen
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/> I tried to kick, but that was useless. I tried to smack, but his other monkey hand grabbed my wrist and held it to the ground.
His dark, velvet voice spoke. “Quit running.”
I squealed. “No, no you don’t,” he laughed darkly and tightened his grip.
I started crying again. The tears streamed down my face and ran over his hand. A tear slipped through his fingers and touched my lips.
I nonchalantly reached into the back pocket of my shorts and found a pocket knife. As I realized what it was, I tried to open it.
Successfully, twisting and turning the knife and my body from Eric, I opened the small, but useful pocket knife and placed it under Eric’s jaw.
He soon realized what it was and stared into my eyes. He slowly let go of my wrist and then my mouth.
I didn’t once let go of the knife to his throat. I could puncture it at any moment.
The tears were still streaming their way down my face. Eric started to back away.
“No.” was all I said.
He looked at me, “What? You’re going to kill me now? You know you had fun that night. You wanted it.”
And that’s when I lost it.
I let out another cold, blood curdling, and hair-raising scream.
I was gripping the knife so much that my knuckles throbbed. But I was not concerned about my hand at all.
All of the sudden, Eric tackled me and grabbed my hand. We wrestled and wrestled. I was NOT giving up this time.
“No. No. NO!!!! GET OFF OF ME!!” The tears were unstoppable at this point.
I finally got to the point of anger and I pushed all of my weight and rolled Eric over, and then had the knife at his throat. I was pushing it to his skin.
My breath was loud and fast.
I raised the knife, and brought it down to this chest just once. And that was the end of it.
Imprint
His dark, velvet voice spoke. “Quit running.”
I squealed. “No, no you don’t,” he laughed darkly and tightened his grip.
I started crying again. The tears streamed down my face and ran over his hand. A tear slipped through his fingers and touched my lips.
I nonchalantly reached into the back pocket of my shorts and found a pocket knife. As I realized what it was, I tried to open it.
Successfully, twisting and turning the knife and my body from Eric, I opened the small, but useful pocket knife and placed it under Eric’s jaw.
He soon realized what it was and stared into my eyes. He slowly let go of my wrist and then my mouth.
I didn’t once let go of the knife to his throat. I could puncture it at any moment.
The tears were still streaming their way down my face. Eric started to back away.
“No.” was all I said.
He looked at me, “What? You’re going to kill me now? You know you had fun that night. You wanted it.”
And that’s when I lost it.
I let out another cold, blood curdling, and hair-raising scream.
I was gripping the knife so much that my knuckles throbbed. But I was not concerned about my hand at all.
All of the sudden, Eric tackled me and grabbed my hand. We wrestled and wrestled. I was NOT giving up this time.
“No. No. NO!!!! GET OFF OF ME!!” The tears were unstoppable at this point.
I finally got to the point of anger and I pushed all of my weight and rolled Eric over, and then had the knife at his throat. I was pushing it to his skin.
My breath was loud and fast.
I raised the knife, and brought it down to this chest just once. And that was the end of it.
Imprint
Publication Date: 03-21-2010
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